Chin up boy!
by LostLyra
Summary: When Kyle realises that he's fallen for his Super Best Friend, the stability of his normal life is ripped from underneath him. Oh, and Cartman's still the biggest dick in Colorado. Style, Bunny, Creek
1. Chapter 1

Yo, so my first South Park fanfiction - I'm totally in the dark about how this is going to be recieved!

I must thank my awsome Beta MariePierre before I start.

Please enjoy!

LostLyra.

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><p>He really needed to stop staring, biting his chapped lips the redheaded boy watched his dark haired classmate sitting in front of him. His hair was shining in the light, swept back into comfortable teen style. It was a natural dark raven colour, and it never seemed to get greasy, no matter how often he washed it. He grinned dreamily, stopping himself from letting out a very girly sigh. He hadn't been paying attention at all in his English Lit class. It was the only class that he was taking that wasn't AP; an issue that the smart Jew was getting increasingly frustrated about—how could he speak two EU languages effortlessly, but couldn't cope with his own?<p>

Then something smacked him in the head; wincing, the red-head turned around and glowered at the innocent blond boy sitting behind him. His sky blue eyes flickered to his, before returning to the board and scribbling down the notes on the play that they were studying._Twelfth Night, _how thrilling. The red-head scowled at the mocking pages, wondering why they couldn't have studied another play for their finals, not just the one that made a fool out of men - and women—alike, and (he felt) was one of the least entertaining pieces that the god of plays had ever written. His emerald green eyes wavered back to the pretty boy sitting next to him.

Leopold Stotch—or Butters—as his friends preferred to call him.

The platinum haired boy should have really been in the AP English class, along with this friend Red. _Don't forget the drama and music classes_, the voice in his head reminded. Unfortunately his _brilliant _parents wanted him to do science; which—bless him—Butters was absolutely _crap_at. He'd been taking AP drama and music alongside his other subjects, hoping that his parents would finally take a hint. The red haired boy sighed and rested his chin on his hand, glancing out of the window at the snow covered ground. It was now December, and his _final_finals were drawing near; now only six short months . Some students had already begun to study, reviewing desperately through the pages of work they'd collected throughout the past months.

He paused his rambling thoughts, desperately trying to concentrate on what the teacher was saying, but it failed, as his eyes once again strayed to his super best friends' strong shoulders and neck. He bit his lip again in thought.

Perhaps taking Music and Theatre, basket ball and any other extra curricula's he could get his hands on, was a bit of a bad idea. Stress was already building within the school, with the added looming prospect of finding and applying for colleges (in South Park High ranging from Harvard School of Law to Liberal Arts colleges such as William's college), something was going to snap.

Thank goodness that the Christmas holidays were coming up.

"What's the significance of the letter Olivia writes to Malvolio? Mr. Broflovski," but the red headed boy wasn't paying attention as he was staring at the perfect form that was the back of his super best friends, _Stan Marsh's_ head. He didn't register her voice until Butters jabbed him in the ribs.

Yelping he snapped to attention, flipping desperately through the pages of Twelfth Night, before grinning at Butters in relief as the elder teen passed him his notes, discreetly as he could, under the dark eyes of their English teacher Mrs. Scouch. "Are you even paying attention? Mr. Stotch you do not need to pass your friend your notes, I presume that he's done his own?"

Biting his bottom lip Kyle ducked his head in shame, ignoring the sniggers of his old friend the fat boy. "Maybe it's cause he's been staring at the other fags' ass; and I don't mean Leopold,"

"Mr. Cartman that is enough," the teacher snapped as most of the class laughed at his comment. The only ones that stayed silent were Kyle, his super best friend, and Butters. The laughter stopped and all the class turned to look, and wondered what the punishment was going to be to one of the smartest boys in the whole school. "I want to see your notes," the teacher demanded, holding out her hand. Swallowing, the teen handed out his notes, only the title of the play scrawled out in his neat hand writing.

The room was silent, and Kyle swore that he saw his teachers' eye twitch. Mrs Scouch never shouted, ever; but she was the type of person who was the deadliest when she was quiet. "Kyle Broflovski I want you out of my class—right _now_," there were no gasps of surprise, instead, they all listened and watched with bated breath. "If I _ever _see you in this classroom again I will personally request your suspension from this school," she didn't even bother handing him back his notes (the majority of which he'd copied from Butters anyway). Getting his stuff into his bag as quickly as possible the teen took one look at his super best friend—his eyes wide and confused. Blue met green—just for a second, and something flashed between them. Snapping out of his trance the teen departed hurriedly, almost tripping over his feet in his haste.

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><p>"Well, well, well," a leering voice taunted. Kyle sat on the steps leading to South Park High, trying to will away the tears stinging his cheeks; his appearance was dishevelled, hair sticking up and face bright red. He tried to ignore the goth kid that was ridiculing him. "Not in class Jew kid?" Kyle disregarded him, and pressed his face deeper into his arms. "Jew, I was talking to you!" the goth snapped, jerking him up by his ginger locks and pulling the boy face to face. The tears that were from humiliation quickly turned to pain.<p>

"Hey _Cutters_!" a voice bellowed from the below them, the goth looked down and snarled.

"I was doing this fag a favour,"

"I thought you were pro fags," Kyle recognized his other best friend; Kenny McCormick.

"Listen you Justin-wannabe, I'm pro-death, and these assholes should burn in hell," Kyle cringed, that comment hurt him than he wanted to admit.

"Let my best friend _go_,"

"Aww, mad that your little boyfriend is hurt?"

"Dude, he's my best friend_, not my boyfriend,_"

"What you're upset cause you didn't get to fuck that little blond boy up against—" Kyle had enough he kicked the goth hard; who let him go gasping. With one look at the boy in the hoodie the ginger took off, running as fast as he could.

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><p>"Guys have you seen Kyle?" the dark haired boy asked, his bright blue eyes shining with worry. There were four of them seated around the table; Stan glanced questionably at his friends. Butters was fiddling with his food, pushing it around his plate. The second blond boy on the table was Tweek Tweak; he was clutching an empty cup of coffee and grinned in relief as his best friend Craig Tucker brought over a new cup, placing it into his awaiting hands.<p>

"N-n-nope," Butters replied quietly, pushing his tray away from him. He folded his arms and rested his head on them. "Not s-s-since English,"

"I heard something happened, do you know?" Clyde asked in interest, biting into his sandwich.

"I don't really want to tell you," Butters replied, "It's for Kyle to tell," he pressed his face into his arms.

"That damn son of a bitch!" a boy wearing an orange hoodie stormed up to their table, dragging up a chair and slamming his back onto the floor, before bringing up his smashed lunch. Butters looked over at Kenny a bit surprised, but he smiled trying to lift his angered boyfriends' spirits.

"Kenny where's Kyle?" Stan asked determinedly. He was worried about Kyle after what had happened in English.

"I don't know," the boy snapped, as he pulled out his lunch. He relaxed slightly as Butters hand crept down to his thigh and started to rub relaxing slow circles to try and calm him. "I was talking to him before his AP French, but when the bell went left quickly. He was murmuring something about not getting his finals completed cause of English,"

Stan sighed; he was a bit miffed with his friend getting into trouble in a class that he should have been acing, what was wrong with him lately? He adored his best friend, but he was starting to get annoyed and concerned.

"He got kicked out of English and threatened with suspension," Butters blurted out. Craig raised an eyebrow, Tweek actually stopped twitching in surprise, and Stan glowered at this.

He wasn't surprised to see four sets of jaws drop around him, and Butters sank further into his seat, guilt surpassing his features. "Maybe I c-c-c-could have done s-somethin'," Kenny put a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Why, dude?" Clyde looked at him, his face taught with confusion as he glanced at the quivering blond.

"He was completely spaced out in English, he hadn't been writing any notes, and then," he swallowed and sucked in a breath, before bashing his knuckles together, his tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. "Oh Hamburgers. Ken, I could have stopped him from getting in trouble, I should have…" he trailed off, his head falling once again onto his now folded arms, silent sobs rocking his body. The other boys looked at each other in surprise. Without even thinking Kenny's arms slipped around his shoulders and rubbed his arm gently, pressing his face into his soft blond locks, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head, weaving his hands through his soft blond locks.

"I'm gonna get so grounded tonight," there was a little shiver, and Kenny's slipped his arms around his boyfriends waist and pulled him half onto his lap and let his head rest on his chest. Butters miniature breakdowns where happening more and more frequently, with the violence at home getting worse and the increasing workload, people didn't realize how bad the boy had it, but still didn't care about the blond boy.

"So how's the fag, the poor person and the spaz?" a deep voice boomed. It was their old friend turned jock, followed by his jock buddies. He loved having the stability of such a strong group.

"Fuck off Cartman," Stan sighed, now wasn't the time.

"Crying over your _super best boyfriend_, hippie. Or are you just realizing how lame your 'friends' are?" He made a face, as if he was sucking a invisible cock, and the boys standing around him. Stan ignored him, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the table.

There was a roar of laughter, and Cartman continued, "Have nothing to say hippie faggot? Too busy daydreaming about circle jerking with your fucking freaks for friends?" Stan tried to not fuel Cartman's jeering and remained silent. "No, I bet your just dying to fuck one of them, so who is it? The faggot kike? The Tweeker? The girly fag? The—"

Stan lost his cool and abruptly stood up slamming his hands on the table top.

"Fuck off Fat BOY!" he roared. "I don't give a flying fuck about you or your stupid bigoted attitude!" he was breathing hard, hands balled into fists at his side. The anger he had kept bottled up over Cartman finally seeping out. "So what if Butter's is gay, so what if Kenny's an attention whore? So what if Tweek needs several cups of coffee to keep himself sane over the day," he breathed deeply. "They're my friends, and Kyle is my super best friend, I don't care if it's gay, or faggoty, but it's fat fucks like yourself with the intolerance of a horny bull in a fucking china shop, that really piss me off." the teen looked at his old friend surprised. Stan's voice suddenly dropped to a dangerous whisper. "And if you _ever _make my super best friend lose his faith in _anything_, I will personally make your miserable excuse for life a living hell,"

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><p>Kyle took a bite of chicken, trying to fight the feeling of indifference to hunger, it didn't work. He still had a slight headache and his eyes were sore from the crying he'd done in the near abandoned third floor girls bathroom.<p>

"Kyle honey," Shelia's voice was gentle, sensing something wasn't right with her son.

"Sorry mom, I didn't have a great day at school" he pushed the chair back. "I don't have an appetite,"

"It's alright honey," she said softly. Ike sent him a weird look, wondering what eating Kyle.

"Can I go out for a walk? I need to clear my head." Glancing up at the clock his mother checked the time.

"As long as you wear a warm coat and take your phone," she reminded gently. He smiled at her weakly while nodding. As he left the table, the teen took his old parka and threw on his hat. Grabbing his phone and stuffing it into his pocket, he opened the door and stepped out into the snow.

It was cold; he shoved his hands into his deep pockets the red-head scuffed the half melted snow across the pavement. His feet took him through his normal route past the numerous shops and out across to the old pond where they used to hang out. A smile passed his lips as he sat down on his favourite old rock, not really caring that the hard granite was starting to freeze his backside. Taking a rock he tossed it up and down in his hand before tossing it to the other. The cold bit at his exposed skin, and he shivered slightly. Anger boiled up again in his chest, the shame amplified everything, and he felt as though it would all boil over. He sighed, and clutched the small grey stone in his palm.

He felt a buzzing in his pocket; taking out the phone he saw it was text, he felt himself smile as he saw it was from Stan.

_Hey bro, cn i cme over?_

Rolling his eyes at the lack of grammar his friends' texts he replied. _Hey man, at Starks Pond fuckin' freezin'._

It was a couple of minutes before the next text was received.

_K, want me 2 brng a couple of shitty bags of fd and a sleepin bag?_

He grinned in reply. _Sounds awesome, up at the old tree house where we hung out?_

The text was almost immediate. _Totally_.

It was about fifteen minutes before he heard footsteps crushing the snowflakes underneath a certain pair of feet. Stan really wasn't a subtle guy, and he managed to make his presence known to all who were out there.

"Dude it's so fucking cold out here!" Kyle smiled as he heard his super best friends' voice, he felt a warm blanket being draped around him and a particularly warm body pressed up against his. Sighing gently he leaned back into the warmth.

He was sure he felt a pair of lips brush against his forehead.

There was a rush of cold air as the dark haired teen moved over to the couple of bags he was carrying. He swiftly pulled out three flasks. Raising an eyebrow Kyle gave Stan a sideways look. Stan rolled his eyes, before pouring a cup of something warm and steamy out of one of the flasks. "Mom knew I was goin' out to Starks Pond, and before I could refuse she defrosted this out the freezer. It's some of her stew; beef's cool with you isn't it?"

Smiling slightly Kyle sipped at the warm beverage, humming in contentment as the warm soup filled his belly. The two were huddled together, watching as the minute snow crystals danced over Starks Pond. They were feeling comfortably warm even though they were in below freezing temperatures.

"Can I have some more Sir?" Kyle tilted his head and fluttered his eyelashes, holding his cup up towards his friend with a typical Oliver Twist look.

"No," Stan replied, although there was a grin forming across his features.

"STAN!" he reached over and tried to grab the soup from his laughing friend, a tussle started in which Kyle ended up sprawled over his best friend. Swallowing he looked down at the raven haired boy and licked his lips.

"What you're gonna attack me in the park now?" he grinned, loosening the tension with a quirked eyebrow. Kyle's smile matched his and his hands crept down to his ribs, loving the way that his best friends' eyes widened comically as he shied away from the onslaught of the _hands_. "No Kyle!" he gasped, as the warm blanket covering them came off and they tussled in the snow, Kyle's hands skittered over his super best friends' ribcage and couldn't help but laugh at Stan's desperate attempts to thwart his assault, but laughing so hard in the process that the counter attack was useless. "Kyle!" the last bit came out as a shout, but it was a playful begging voice that was desperate for him to stop. Finally Stan's lukewarm hands caught his wrists and held them in the strong grip that he'd developed from being a football fanatic all these years. "If you get off I'll give you some more of my moms' stew?"

"Promise?"

Stan grinned, and looked up at him with the most adorable pout that he could muster. "Yes sir,"

"Alright," wiggling Kyle slipped off him, and reached out for the container, but not before Stan grabbed it and shot off up the snowy mountainside, cackling all the way.

"Damn you STAN!" Kyle roared, a smile still plastered on his face.

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><p>"Christ you look like shit," Kenny, ever polite Kenny, commented as his good friend Kyle stumbled into the classroom the next morning. There were light bags underneath his eyes, but a worn smile on his face none the less.<p>

"Stan decided to run up the fucking mountain last night, I then forgot to do the Chem AP paper that I had left to last night, I didn't get to bed till gone six," he stifled a yawn and sat as his desk.

His orange clad friend raised an eyebrow, wondering what Stan and Kyle were doing up the mountain side in the early hours of the morning. If they had finally shagged, Craig owed him a twenty; as did most of the other lads in their friend circle. Kyle was usually a morning person, and didn't really swear if it about his super best friend.

Well unless fat boy was involved. Then he'd use words that would cause a Nun to commit suicide.

"Well hello my sunshine!" it was Stan Marsh, and he threw a playful arm across Kyle's shoulders. The red-head in question glowered at his super best friend. Stan raised his dark eyebrows. "What's with you?"

"You know how we didn't get back 'til two last night?"

"Yeah?"

"Well I forgot I'd left an AP Chem paper and I didn't get to bed 'til gone six,"

Stan's face fell. "Aww dude I'm sorry," by his tone Kyle could tell he was sincere.

Kyle gave him a small smile; showing everything was forgiven. The moment was broken by Kenny who laughed, and shook his head. "Christ it's like being in a Brokeback Mountain remake,"

Stan leaned over and smacked him on the upside of the head, but (Kenny noticed) pulled Kyle a little tighter towards him. The blond boy didn't know if he was making a point, or was doing it automatically. The door suddenly opened and there were two girly voices. At that moment Stan pointedly let go of Kyle (to which Kyle looked rather down hearted) and turned to his girlfriend.

Yes Stan Marsh the quarterback managed to bag himself one of the hottest girls in school (unless it was Butters wearing a dress; but who was Kenny to judge?). Today her long black hair fell down her shoulders, bringing out her dove grey eyes, and flawless skin. The pink jumper she was wearing flattered her curves and tucked her in at all the right places, and the short skirt showed off more leg than was probably legal.

"Hey babe," Stan gave her a disarming grin, and shot a smile over at her blond best friend Bebe.

"Hey Stan," she leaned up and pressed a kiss on his lips; Kenny childishly stuck out his tongue and pulled a rude hand jester, bringing a smile to Kyle's face. Kyle always wished that he never felt slightly sick at the showers of affection the pair gave each other.

"Dude I'm trying to keep down the little breakfast I had today," came Kenny's complaining voice, but it had a light playful tone to it. The couple broke away, and Wendy smiled apologetically towards Kenny, who rolled his eyes and flipped her off.

"Y'know, you might want to take a leaf out of Craig's book and learn to get the timings right," she shot back, Kyle saw Kenny smirk underneath his hood, and in one fluid motion he leaned over and slapped her ass.

She shrieked in surprise, her face bursting into colour before snarling at Kenny and stomping to her seat in the homeroom. Kenny couldn't help but snigger with laughter, and before long had Craig and Token sniggering along as well. Stan raised his eyebrows, not saying anything, knowing that Kenny was just being Kenny and there was nothing that he could do to stop it. Wendy shot him a _why_-_didn't_-_you_-_stop_-_it _glare, and he shrugged helplessly back.

"Alright class, settle down," the sound of their teachers grating voice silenced the students and they settled down into their separate desks. Kyle glanced around, for the first time realizing that Butters wasn't present, discreetly as he could he leaned over to Kenny.

"Ken, Butters isn't here,"

His friends' eyes widened, and he swore under his breath. "Oh, fuck," he glanced over to Kyle, fear written on his face. "You don't think his dad's locked him in the store cupboard again?"

"I don't know," Kyle bit his lip in worry, "If he doesn't come in after break we're going and getting him, even if all hell breaks loose."

Kenny nodded, about to reply, when their homeroom teacher cut across them. "Would you like to share what you want to say with the class?" her slightly annoyed voice asked. Miss Kicks was all right, probably one of the best teachers they'd had the pleasure of teaching them; she was the perfect homeroom teacher.

"No miss," her eyebrow rose in question, but didn't say anything, and started to take the register, still shooting each other worried glances, wondering where the hell was Butters?

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><p>Authors note:<p>

Hey I'm just branching off the normal path, although I'm not new to writing Slash, I'm completely new to writing Style and Bunny. This is my first South Park fanfiction, so please be nice!

I would also like to say again, thank's to the awsomeness of MariePierre, who helped beta this and get it up and running! Go check out her Style fanifics, cause they totally inspired this!

Hope you enjoyed, and as always, reviews and critique are loved by all (but especially me!).

Thanks,

LostLyra


	2. Chapter 2

Realised it'd been ages since I last updated this so here goes... Second chapter!

Once again I would like to thank MariePierre for beting this for me! And for those awesome reviews I didn't expect!

Please enjoy.

LostLyra

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><p>It turned out to be around break when Butters Stotch almost stumbled into the main atrium of school, a new bruise adorned his face and he pulled down a woollen cap to try and shield it from curious onlookers. The hat itself was a light sky blue toque, and it had been a present from Kenny on his seventh birthday. The eldest boy in the year pushed through the crowds of students that were coming out of their latest classes, he knew that Kenny wouldn't be in any of these classes; judging his work ethic, although it had gotten better with his <em>rather<em> unusual teaching techniques. Forcing his way through the corridor and out to the back, past the canteen and through to the bleachers, knowing that his boyfriend would be smoking a discrete joint; sheltered with some of the other smokers under the shade of the ominous towering stands that over-looked the frozen ground of the South Park High football field.

The cold air bit into his skin as he slipped out the back of the boy's locker room and into the chilly December air. He really didn't know why South Park High bothered with a football field; in Colorado they only had decent weather for around five months in the year, and two of those counted as summer holidays. He spotted the other blond easily, pulling his hat over his slightly damp forehead he made his way over to the two Goth's and jock that accompanied Kenny's cancer stick ritual.

"Hey Ken what's the fag doing here?" one of the jocks asked, flicking his smoke to the ground, before stepping towards the smaller form of Butters. The blond didn't step back, but stood firm, he was sick of being pushed around, and realized that he needed to pull his act together if he was going to get through life and school. "Hey, fag, got any pot? That why you're here for Ken?"

Butters didn't reply, but still stood firm, he clenched his fists together, in a desperate attempts to prevent his knuckles rubbing together. "Just stand there and smoke your pot fella's Ken's got a book he owes me,"

The laugh from the jock (Larry, one of Cartman's new friends) stepped menacingly towards the scrawnier blue clad boy. "What on _geometricicy_?" he obviously thought it was funny as he let out a loud belly laugh.

"Actually I borrowed some lezzie-porn off B," Kenny had remained quiet throughout the whole discussion; he'd finished his smoke and flicked the butt in the heaped snow piled at the foot of the bleachers. There was a raised eyebrow from Larry. The boy knew that the two were dating, and hated Butters, but Kenny let everyone know that anyone who messed with Butters messed with him; and messing with Kenneth McCormick was a _very_ bad idea. The dark haired jock stepped back, obviously in disbelief over the comment, but not wanting to deal with the volatile hoodied boy. "C'mon Butters," Kenny grunted, grabbing the boys arm a little more forcefully than was needed, directing him towards the open double doors.

As soon as the pair were in the safety of the deserted school corridor, he dragged the slimmer blond out of sight of the others and into the empty locker room. Ignoring the protests from his boyfriend the blond yanked off the toque, clearly displaying the darkened purple bruise, it was a stark contrast between his pale ivory skin. Butters watched in apprehension as he saw his boyfriend's soft blue eyes darken to a stormy sea azure.

"I'll fuckin' kill him," the boy swore, his hand reaching out tenderly and brushing the bruise gently with his fingers.

"Kenny, please," the other blond begged. Butters loved his parents so much; he never really knew why his father was so violent towards him.

"I'm sorry," Butters looked up surprised, grabbing his boyfriend's hands and giving them a gentle squeeze, ignoring the raised eyebrow from his other half.

"You can't be sorry; it's not your fault,"

There was a moment of silence, disturbed only by the dripping of a busted tap in one of the sinks. Before he could stop himself Kenny wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, before pulling his blue hat over his head. The dusty haired blond hugged Kenny back, breathing in the musk of cigarettes, cheap aftershave and _something _that was just Kenny.

He desperately wished that the words his boyfriend was repeating over and over again would be true.

But everything was not going to be okay.

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><p>"Hey," Kyle couldn't help the smile on his face as he saw his super best friend leaning against the lockers arms crossed against his beloved football team jersey, with his handsome face pulled into a bromancy grin. "What's got you so down?" He asked knowing that something was up.<p>

"Oh I'm just swamped," Kyle replied, pulling several heavy looking Chemistry text books out of his locker.

"Dude, _really_?"

The glower that struck him was amusing and Stan couldn't help but laugh as he shoved his best friend lightly on the shoulder. The red head sent a playful glare back. "Up yours," he snapped. Although there was no threat in it, and there was a hint of underlying enjoyment.

"That's why _I'm_ taking philosophy,"

"You don't have to do any work in philosophy, _that's_ why you're taking it," the taller boy retorted. His super best friend raised his eyebrows, and shoved Kyle playfully.

"I have to do philosophical thinking,"

Kyle couldn't help but snigger as he shut his locker, scooping his math books into his bag as well. They started down the corridor to the science labs - where they had to part ways for class. Kyle bit his lip and looked across to his super best friend, being about an inch taller than the other boy he could easily see what his friend was doing. Even though his best friend was a little shorter, the teen was well built, with muscles to die for and a stance that made him look taller than he actually was. Biting his lip the red head broke the question he'd been dying to ask all week. "How are you and Wendy doing?" it was a simple question, but he knew that the answer could turn either way. Part of him felt guilty, due to the fact that both people in the relationship were dear friends and he didn't want to hurt either with selfish desires. He liked Wendy, he _really_ did, but she was his best friends present, long term, off again on again girlfriend - that's why he had a problem with Testaburger. The girlfriend element of their friendship, scratch off the girlfriend label and everything between them would be just peachy.

His super best friend shrugged nonchalantly. "I dunno," his playful mood from the earlier conversation was broken. "She wants to go further,"

"And?" Kyle raised his eyebrows. "I thought it's every guy's dream to get laid,"

"Well it's supposed to be isn't it?" he gave him an exasperated look. "But I still feel this stupid sick feeling in my stomach every time it's over 3rd base, and I just back out,"

"At least you're not puking on her any more," Kyle teased, trying to get his happy best mate back (he really, _really_, didn't want Goth Stan to make his infamous return).

"DUDE!" the black haired teens voice rose slightly. "So not cool!"

"I've got super best friend rights!" Kyle sang.

"With that it doesn't count," the other replied stubbornly, not before swiftly swiping the beloved ushanka from his friends head, exposing the soft mass of soft autumn red curls that framed his face.

"Hey!" Kyle made a swipe for his hat, desperately trying to get his garment back. He really didn't want to go into his science with his hair on full display to the world. Grinning Stan held it behind his back, and started to walk backwards down the corridor. Kyle started to chase, but the bell rang for next period. Scowling the red head glowered at his shaggy haired companion before stalking off to his class.

* * *

><p>"Hey Curly!" there was a good natured laugh as the red headed boy slipped into the large auditorium, Kyle scowled at the good looking dark haired boy.<p>

"Shut it Clyde," the teen replied. Dumping his book filled bag onto the table and swinging his acoustic guitar case from around his back, pulling the strap from around his head. "Where's the others?"

"Up here!" there was a yell from Red as she flicked back her long dyed hair. Kyle waved back to his other friend, motioning her to come down from the second row of seats lining the theatre. "The others are chasing down people,"

"Didn't they read the notice?"

"Dunno," she hopped up onto the stage, her legs tapping out a beat as she sat down. "Mr. Anderson was trying to decide what set of songs we're singing for nationals,"

"Huh," Clyde grunted, the bass singer had joined the local singing (glee for a better word) club just at the start of the year, not realizing how much of a commitment the club actually was.

"Hey fella's," Butter's voice signaled his arrival as he carefully placed his bag down and sat on an arm of a chair.

"Hey Butters," Kyle replied, Clyde raised his hand in a casual greeting, whilst Red smiled warmly at him.

"We're missing a lot of the cast," the blond stated worriedly, this was the last practice that they had before they broke up for Christmas, and they desperately needed the practice, much more on the choreography than the singing.

"Yeah," Kyle absent-mindedly strummed his guitar, tuning it delicately. "Most of the guys didn't read the notice that we had the auditorium booked."

"Has-" Butters was interrupted by the rest of the female cast, a familiar dark haired beauty, and her blond haired best companion. Lola and Kal stumbled in close behind, obviously having run around the school trying to find the rest of the club members.

"Have we got everyone yet?" Mr. Anderson sidled into the room; a man in his mid thirty's dressed in a casual shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He was one of the best teachers that the school had ever had. He was a music teacher, and could play a range of different instruments, from piano to the bass guitar; the students loved him because he was down to earth and generally a nice person.

"Everyone except Pip, Craig, and Damien," Red jumped off the stage and sat next to Butters.

"They've got Phys-Ed haven't they?" Kal asked, retying her pink bow, pulling her dark rowan hair into a high ponytail.

"Yeah," there was a chorus of general agreement in the room.

"Everyone sit down," Mr. Anderson talked with an authority that he really didn't need. Clyde and Kyle jumped gracefully off the stage and sat with the rest of the cast. Once all his students were seated together the teacher pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket. "Right, I've decided to pick a range of songs that will use everyone's abilities. When it comes nearer the date we can pick definite ones just to be sure. So I thought-" the door slammed open to reveal three boys, all looking rather red, scruffy and not to pleased with themselves. "Nice to see you've finally revealed yourselves boys," the rest of the group chuckled, noticing that the ever so present Craig had his fly undone. Craig being Craig he promptly zipped himself up and sat down - not before flipping the entire hall off. "Anyway. I've got down, Queen, Bowling for Soup, Big D and the Kids Table, The Darkness, and some Slash," there were grins and a small cheer went up at the mention of Queen and the Darkness. "I wanted Queen because we can really use Butter's voice to our full advantage,"

Butters blushed at the notion, and sank down a little, but he was smiling. "B you're too modest about your singing talents," Kyle laughed and pushed him lightly. The blond boy rubbed the back of his neck.

"We've got Head Long, or I Want It All for Queen," Mr. Anderson stated.

"We could do I Want It All. B could dress up as Prof Chaos," Red giggled, there was a joint laugh, and the boy in question blushed.

"I would prefer to Head Long," Butters interrupted. "Or Play The Game," he paused, "but it depends on what everyone else wants to do,"

"Hmm," Anderson stroked his chin in thought, "All right, hands for I Want It All," there were only two, "Hands for Head Long," almost all put their hands up. "Play the Game?" only Kyle and Butters volunteered. "Sorry boys, we've got all the votes for Head Long I'm afraid," Butters shrugged, but grinned.

"I think we should start practising Head Long," he walked over to the piano that was on the stage. "C'mon, let's warm up,"

Kyle joined the rest of the group on the stage, running his hand through his curly locks. Bebe sent a dazzling smile over in his direction, he grinned back - apparently people still thought that he had a tight ass. He didn't mind, he smiled in Wendy's direction, she scowled back in reply. He raised his eyebrows, but didn't retaliate.

"Kyle we would like your input as well," Mr. Anderson grinned knowingly, and Kyle couldn't help but blush. Following the rest of the group in the warm up, the red headed boy realized that this was going to be a long lunchtime.

* * *

><p>Sighing in relief Kyle stood and stretched from his study period, the bell had rang for the end of school, and he popped his back, wincing as the bones went back to their original position. He rubbed his hand down his face, and scrubbed at his eyes, trying to get the focus back into them. The numbers and shapes of his AP geometry homework had blurred around the edges. Yawning he marked his text book page and pushed both of his books into his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder the teen exited the library, waving goodbye to the elderly librarian seated at the desk. He walked out into the corridor, grinning at the sounds and shouts of the school on a Friday afternoon. He dashed to the hallway that his locker was in and scooped in all the books, before throwing his schoolbag over his back.<p>

"Kyle!" he turned to see Kenny, along with Butters, waving him over. Slamming his locker door shut the red head maneuvered through the throngs of school students, wanting to get home for the weekend. "Here," he handed the red head his guitar.

"Thanks,"

Kenny was grinning as they walked down the steps of the school and round the corner; he _knew_ what the blond was trying not to laugh about. "Someone steal your hat?" he mocked.

"Fuck you Kenny," Kyle shoved his free hand into his coat pockets, it was cold without his hat, and a chill breeze blew, ruffling his rustic red hair and making him shiver.

"Cold?" Kyle glowered, and Kenny couldn't help but fall into the snow drift on the side of the pavement in laughter.

Butters watched slightly confused, and turned to Kyle. "I think you look good without the hat," Kyle blushed from the comment. "It b-b-brings out your eyes,"

Smiling Kyle nudged Butters, "Thanks,"

"Yeah, he looks like a Cocker Spaniel that my aunt had years ago," Kenny was still laughing and clutching his sides as he rolled in the snow. "Had a perm recently red head?"

"Hey!" before Kenny knew what was happening Kyle had handed Butters his guitar bag and launched himself at the blond effortlessly pinning him. Grabbing a fist full of snow the Jew easily unbuckled the dirty blond's torn jeans and stuffed a handful of snow down into his boxers. Kenny yelped and shoved the green eyed boy off, swearing profusely; even Butters cracked a smile as his boyfriend danced around trying to get the snow out of his pants.

"You little shit!" he swore, shaking the snow out of his pants, before zipping them up and scowled at the Jew. In retaliation he grabbed a handful of snow, balled it, and threw it into the side of Kyle's face. But before he could even register that the snowball had hit its mark, Kenny had a face full of snow from a very well aimed snowball. He sputtered and spat out snow, glancing at his boyfriend in question, Butters shrugged.

"Now, now children play nice," Kyle smiled unintentionally as he felt two strong arms wrap around his slim waist. His head felt instantly warmer as the hat was returned to its rightful owner.

"Fuck you Stan," Kenny replied, still spitting out snow.

"Well at least Butters can warm you up," Kyle grinned, shooting a knowing look towards the blond. The sudden heat from the blonds face could probably be felt for miles.

"Shush," Kenny replied, and the pair started walking on towards their destination. Butters handed Kyle the guitar, to which he smiled in thanks. "Wanna get pizza and a movie later?"

"Sweet dude," replied Stan's voice next to his ear. "Meet you at the Pizza House at eight?"

"Awesome," the two fist bumped and Kenny slung his arm over Butters shoulders, whispering something in his ear as they walked away, something that was making the elder blond giggle.

"You look good without the hat,"

Kyle swallowed at Stan's low voice, he was perfectly comfortable to spend the rest of his life here, just in this spot, with Stan's arms wrapped around his waist keeping him warm. "You should be without it more often,"

"Stan," he bit out, "Stop fucking around,"

"Am not," the darker haired boy replied. "I love your hair, dude its fucking perfect," to make his point the elder teen ran his hand underneath his hat and caressed the soft locks.

Kyle needed to suppress a shiver that went through him at the motion. He heard footsteps crunching over the ground and pulled away, noticing his super best friend's face fall into a bit of a frown at the loss of contact.

"Stan?" Kyle cursed, it was Wendy Fucking Testaburger.

"Wendy!" the elder boy almost jumped in surprise, turning round so fast he slipped and Kyle rushed to balance him with his free hand, pushing the heavier boy upright. "Thanks dude,"

"Are we going out tonight?" Wendy asked, her dove grey eyes flickering to where Kyle still had his hand on Stan's back, and giving him a look that clearly said "back off he's mine" surprised the red head pulled back.

Stan rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually I was gonna spend some time with the guys, full evening, sorry," he added quickly as he saw her face fall.

"Stan we always go out on a Friday," she pulled a pout, making her lips look bigger than they actually were.

The black haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and sighed. "I'm sorry I forgot. I haven't been able to spend any quality time with my guys,"

_Ha, __take __that __Testa-_Kyle was just about to do a victory dance in his head before Stan spoke up again.

"Can we move it to Saturday; I promise I'll take you out,"

The mental victory dance stopped.

"Sure," Wendy perked up again, and moved to kiss her boyfriend quickly on the lips. "Pick me up at seven?"

Stan quickly returned the kiss, knowing how awkward this was making his super best friend - he hated making Kyle the third wheel. "Sure,"

Kyle sighed mentally, could this crush that was clouding his mind get any bigger? Or was it just going to disappear like he sometimes wished Wendy Testaburger would?

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><p>Anyway second chapter, hope you enjoyed it, as ever reviews are highly appreciated!<p>

Thanks again,

LostLyra


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